


Hanging By A Thread

by eprime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, r/s anon kink meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-09
Updated: 2011-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eprime/pseuds/eprime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's almost October 31st and everything is coming to a head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hanging By A Thread

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [RS Anon Kink Meme](http://ceredwensirius.livejournal.com/206827.html). Prompt: First War and Dominant Sirius. Sirius has begun to suspect Remus is the spy because of all the time he's been forced to go on secret missions for Dumbledore. He knows werewolves overall are turning to Voldemort, and suspects they've turned Remus. He's just given up being secret keeper for James and Lily because he doesn't believe he'd be able to keep it from Remus. Sirius is angry and hurt about the entire situation, and wants to remind Remus that Remus is his, not Voldemort's or some werewolf pack's. I would like Sirius's (angry and upset) emotions about not being able to be Secret Keeper for his best friend to come through, and take out those feelings on Remus through his dominance since he can't tell Remus that the Secret Keeper changed. Main request is angry!dominant!Sirius jumping submissive!Remus, who doesn't know why Sirius is acting the way he is but lets it happen.

"You're back."

When Remus jerked his head up, Sirius noticed the smudges of color beneath his eyes, dark enough to look like bruises. They had a dazed, haunted quality that faded as Remus met his gaze and smiled. He started to unwind from the chair he was curled in.

"Don't get up."

The smile faded, too.

"Sirius? Are you all right?"

That was an excellent question. Sirius thought about it for a moment. He had just left his best friend and brother in all but fact with the suggestion that they use Peter as their Secret Keeper instead of him, the one whose responsibility it should rightfully be.

Oh, his reasoning was sound. No one would suspect Peter, who had been a member of the Order more in name than in deed, leaving the fighting to the others as it always had been. They would overlook Peter and come after him, and he would be ready. He might have to hide, too. But if they did catch up with him, well then let them do their worst. He would never have told if he _were_ the Secret Keeper, and now he wouldn't be able to if he wanted to.

"Sirius?"

His eyes focused on Remus' face. The look of wide-eyed apprehension made his chest clench.

 _What are you so afraid of, Moony?_ Instead of the mind-draining fatigue that usually accompanied his speculations about Remus' motivations lately, Sirius could feel a haze of anger creeping up behind his eyes.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine."

The lie didn't seem to comfort Remus. He stood up and stepped close to Sirius, reaching out to place a hand on his chest. His lips turned up in a tentative smile.

"I missed you, Padfoot."

His eyes closed when Remus pressed a kiss to his mouth, the hand on his chest coming up to cup the back of his neck. For a moment, he gave into it, kissing back as Remus made a small sound of pleasure. The warmth of Remus' body made him want to curl up against him and cry because it had been too long, and it felt so good. Then the last sight of James' somber face as he left him flashed in his mind.

All he could think of was how this felt like a betrayal, and he wasn't sure if he meant Remus or himself. In that moment he hated Remus, and the anger burned with a cold flame in his chest.

"Missed you." Remus whispered the words again, and Sirius' hands came up and settled on his shoulders. _And where were you?_ The thought made his fingers tighten, digging into flesh. _With the werewolves? Have you got a new pack, Moony?_

"Why don't you show me how much." His voice was cool and brusque, but still suggestive, and he pressed down on Remus' shoulders with inexorable force. The flutter of Remus' eyelashes gave away his surprise, but Remus went down to his knees willingly enough, fingers plucking at the zip of Sirius' jeans.

"No." Sirius lifted his hands from Remus' shoulders to wind them through Remus' shaggy hair instead, tilting his head back with a sharp tug to make their eyes meet. His voice didn't thaw at all. "Through the fabric. Suck me."

Remus' eyes went wide, but when Sirius loosened his fingers just enough, he pressed forward to mouth at the bulge in the front of Sirius' jeans. His eyelashes dusted his cheekbones as his tongue licked over the rough material, wet lips pursing and sliding over the shape of Sirius' hardening cock. Sirius could feel the hot, moist breath through the layers, and he shifted, widening his stance, tugging Remus' face closer to his groin.

"Like you _mean_ it," he punctuated with a rough thrust of his hips, almost knocking Remus off-balance. He made a startled sound, and his hands flew up to hover over Sirius' thighs, almost as if he was afraid to touch, but his open-mouthed tonguing of Sirius' clothed cock grew more fevered, almost desperate to please. Sirius saw the gleam of his eyes as he cast a look up through his lashes.

A vicious stab of pleasure spiked through him as the thrill of control, Remus' vulnerability, and his own anger and frustration mixed into a volatile urgency. He narrowed his eyes, exuding a level of haughtiness he hadn't displayed in years.

"I don't think you really want this."

"I do."

Sirius could barely hear Remus' whisper. His mouth brushed against the front of his jeans when he spoke because the tight grip Sirius had on his hair didn't allow him to pull away. Remus pressed forward again, rubbing his cheek against the length of Sirius' cock. "I want to. I want it, Sirius." The words were louder this time, needy and sincere. Sirius wished he could believe it, wished he could pull Remus to his feet and kiss away the confusion and distance between them.

Instead, he stepped back, letting his hands fall away to watch Remus sway with the sudden loss of contact. He looked wounded and uncertain, cupping his elbows like a little boy trying to comfort himself.

Ignoring the shiver of guilt that snaked down his spine, Sirius gave a short laugh, devoid of any warmth. "I don't think you do."

Remus parted his lips, his tongue darting out to wet them. "Please, Sirius."

"I don't think you deserve it." Sirius offered him a mocking smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Do you think so? Have you _earned_ a look at my cock? A touch? A taste?"

He could see that Remus was at a loss. Things had never been like this between them--Sirius cold and almost vicious. Remus was adrift in waters he had no idea, for once, how to navigate. A cruel smile turned up the corners of Sirius' mouth.

"What--" He found Remus' struggle for composure, for some sort of solid ground, almost dizzying. "What do you want me to do?"

Sirius wasn't about to make it easier for him. "You want to earn it, then? My cock? The taste of my come?"

His cheeks flamed high, but Remus nodded, even as his gaze slid down to the floor, catching only for a moment on the place where his mouth had been moments before. "Yes."

Exultation brought Sirius' own color high. "Get undressed, but stay on your knees." As Remus awkwardly divested himself of his clothing, Sirius cataloged his body, his breath catching in his throat as he noted an ugly fading bruise on Remus' hip and several smaller ones marring his pale skin.

"What happened?" He bit the words out, and Remus jerked his head up in response.

"What? Oh...I ran into a bit of trouble." His teeth worried at his lower lip.

"On your mission." Sirius' face was flat, expressionless.

"Yes."

He waited, but no more was forthcoming. Remus knelt before him, naked and nervous, and Sirius could see a slight tremor in his hands. Remus twined them together in his lap. _Does he do this for them?_ Sirius was almost sick at the thought. What did he know of true werewolf pack dynamics, after all. Perhaps, to be accepted, Remus was forced to prostrate himself in front of the leader, in front of the pack. Perhaps he did it willingly. If anyone knew what Remus was willing to do, to put up with, for the sake of acceptance, it was Sirius.

Perhaps that was how he got the marks. Perhaps Remus had proven his new allegiance to them in this way, bent over and held down and bruised, taken and fucked and _used_.

"Get on your fucking hands and knees, _Moony_." He had never uttered the nickname in such a belittling, condescending tone, and he felt a perverse pleasure when Remus flinched.

Planting his feet apart, Sirius stared down his nose at Remus, his arms crossed over his chest. "My boots could do with a good cleaning. You can start with them."

Remus went absolutely frozen, only his eyes widened as he stared up at Sirius. A raised eyebrow was all it took for Remus to lower himself to all fours until he was face to face with Sirius' prized motorcycle boots. The black leather gleamed already. Special cleaning charms kept them permanently pristine, but that wasn't the point.

 _He's probably had to do worse for his Dark Lord_. His inner sneer couldn't quite subdue the dull ache in his chest as he caught a glimpse of Remus' stricken expression before he bent lower and his tongue swiped a tentative stroke across the toe of Sirius' right boot.

"I want every inch of leather shining with your spit, Remus."

He could see Remus shudder, his hips raised high as he applied himself to the task. Despite the nagging sense of guilt he couldn't quite do away with, Sirius was hard, harder than it felt he'd been in forever. The sight of Remus bent low, arse raised wantonly in the air and swaying with his movements as he licked the leather of Sirius' boots, was astoundingly erotic. His cock was trapped painfully in the tight confines of his jeans, and Sirius pressed a palm to the bulge there, holding in the groan that wanted to escape his lips.

The slurp of wet tongue on leather and the little gasps for air Remus made every so often were pure shots of lust that went straight through him. When Remus' eyes flicked up for approval before he moved to the other boot, Sirius could see his long lashes, wet and clumped together. _Fuck_. His cock throbbed, its intense ache making him shift his feet wider.

"You're not finished," he said coldly, an impatient tap of his untouched boot sending Remus back to his submissive position, lapping obediently at the dark leather. He shifted to better reach the back side of the heel, flash of pink tongue curling around Sirius' ankle.

He could see Remus' cock as he shifted, thick and hard, hanging heavily between his legs. "Slut," he breathed. "Licking my boots. You fucking love it, don't you?"

Remus was silent, tongue working the leather, but his fingers, pressed against the bare floor, curled into each other, knuckles turning white.

"You belong down there, yeah? On your fucking knees, licking my boots, don't you?"

Remus was poised over his feet now, almost motionless except for the almost imperceptible shaking that made his whole body tremble if you knew to look for it.

"I asked you a question." Sirius bit out the words, putting the toe of his boot underneath Remus' chin until he was sitting back on his heels and then to his shoulder and shoving back hard. " _Don't_ you?"

He fell back with a cry, looking up at Sirius, eyes round with shock and some indescribable emotion. He choked out a yes, and Sirius gave an approving nod, smiling with cruel pleasure. "And why is that?"

"Because...because..." Remus stuttered, inarticulate in his desperation to say the right thing. It was a heady reward. It made him generous enough to help Remus with the answer.

"Because I fucking _own_ you. You're _mine_."

And then it was Remus nodding in his urgency to agree, to appease _him_ , not someone else, not another pack, or fucking Voldemort and his worthless lot.

"Say it."

"I'm yours." His voice shook, but he held Sirius' gaze, propping himself up on trembling arms. "Yours, Sirius. Always been yours."

Sirius groaned, unable to wait another second to free his cock. "Kneel up." Throat tight, he watched Remus obey the order, took in the flushed skin, his leaking erection that bobbed untouched in front of him.

His own precome wetting his palm, he began fisting himself furiously. "Who owns you?"

"You do," Remus whispered. "You own me."

The slap of flesh on flesh grew louder, his hand blurred as Sirius jerked relentlessly at his cock. He could feel his climax building, balls aching with the need for release.

"Open your mouth."

It was the sight of Remus tilting his chin up, full, pink lips parting, that sent him over. With a choked moan, his cock spasmed in his grip, shooting white stripes of come onto Remus' face. It slid down his cheekbones and jaw, dripping over his parted lips and onto his tongue. Sirius shuddered, lunging forward as Remus licked away a smear on his lower lip.

His mouth claimed Remus as he shoved him to the floor. He tasted himself all over him. Seeking out the markings, sucking at his throat, his jaw, his lips while his hand brought Remus over as quickly and violently as he done for himself until Remus finally shuddered against him and then went still.

Sirius rolled onto his back, folding Remus' naked body against his own, letting Remus press his face against him while he concentrated on forcing his breathing to return to normal. He stared up at the ceiling, not saying anything, not moving, as the fabric covering his shoulder grew warm and wet.

 _I'm sorry_ , he desperately wanted to whisper. _I'm sorry_ , but the words wouldn't come.


End file.
